


tonight, we are young

by zeitgeistofnow



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Chief Yue, Fire Lord Zuko, Gen, Post-Canon, Treaties, Yue (Avatar) Lives, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, anyway i just love these two and hate that they didn't get to be friends, they are TEENAGERS and they are LONELY and they are IN CHARGE OF COUNTRIES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25927234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeitgeistofnow/pseuds/zeitgeistofnow
Summary: “fire lord zuko,” she greets, “i’m glad we could join each other here today.” the title feels gruesome on her tongue, sharp in all the oddest places.“as to you, chief yue.” he looks at her, face politely blank. he seems so much older than yue remembers him from the last time she saw him- the scared boy in the spirit oasis, now an impressively regal fire lord. they were both bred for their parts, she supposes, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that they play them well.
Relationships: (referenced), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Yue & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 58
Kudos: 513





	tonight, we are young

They stare when she walks up to the table, gape quietly at the glow that envelopes her, the divinity that makes her back a little straighter, her scars a little softer than they ever were before. Tui’s glow hums in the knuckles of her hands, on the border between her skin and the air around her. Her buffalo yak cloak is slightly too warm for the Earth Kingdom town, the same way Zuko’s silk shirt is too thin for the light breeze through the pavilion. 

Still, symbolism and pride in their culture’s exports comes before their immediate comfort. When Yue retreats to her room after the signing of the peace treaty and the moon’s blessing sits a little bit deeper in her skin, she will exchange her ceremonial furs for a thin poncho and her braids for loops similar to Katara’s. Zuko will put on a kimono and wipe off his ceremonial makeup and they will be back to looking like teenagers. Not yet, though. Now, they are leaders of the two proudest countries in the world and their ceremonies matter more than either of them can really understand.

The pergola is a new permanent structure, made purely for the signing of this treaty. Freshly planted moon flowers and white dragon bushes bloom around the structure, quietly selected as Earth Kingdom flora that would still symbolize the two other nations. The gathered citizens are a fairly equal mix of Fire Nation, Water Tribe, and Earth Kingdom citizens, with the Avatar and Fire Lord waiting for the Northern Water Tribe Chief at a square table in the center.

It smells like sticky-sweet flowers and heavy spring humidity, weighing on Yue’s back. She misses the familiar weight of her hunting knife on her hip, the lightness of her usual leather ties to keep her two ponytails up instead of the ceremonial ivory headdresses she wears now. She aches for the simple utility of her usual uniform, the sturdy pants and light hunting spear at her back. 

It takes a quiet moment of deliberation to align her heavy robes in a way that will allow her to sit on the cushion across from Zuko. She quietly envies the lightness of his own robes, the way the silk falls easily over his shoulders and pools when he sits. She would rather be cold than too hot, and there is irony in the fact that the opposite is likely true for Zuko.

She presses a fist to the heel of her palm and inclines her head. Zuko imitates the gesture. Neither of the Water Tribes have a traditional greeting- and if there ever was one, it was lost to the sands of time- so the two leaders decided using the Fire Nation gesture was appropriate. 

“Fire Lord Zuko,” she greets, “I’m glad we could join each other here today.” The title feels gruesome on her tongue, sharp in all the oddest places.

“As to you, Chief Yue.” He looks at her, face politely blank. He seems so much older than Yue remembers him from the last time she saw him- the scared boy in the Spirit Oasis, now an impressively regal Fire Lord. They were both bred for their parts, she supposes, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that they play them well. 

He wears dark red lipstick and eyeliner on his good eye, the cosmetics obviously professionally applied, and the Fire Lord headpiece sits in his topknot like the crowning feather of a raven eagle. Yue’s makeup is less minimalist, powders and paints caked onto her face a few minutes before she was set to come to the meeting. The texture is strange on her face, both because she hasn’t worn makeup since her father’s passing and because it’s a different kind of makeup, thicker and earthen-based, meant to withstand melting in the temperatures of the Earth Kingdom. It feels like wearing a second face, a mask of her culture over her true self. 

But, she thinks as she looks at Zuko, who’s to say this isn’t their true selves? Isn’t all ceremony just to illustrate the truth behind our everyday personas? When they dress this way they aren’t individuals, they are countries. They have both been raised to be figureheads and maybe they have finally become their cultures, disappeared into their peoples.

Aang wears an air monk uniform, breathable cloth slung artfully over his shoulder. He holds the two peace treaties in smooth hands. He is unmistakably a child here, standing between a boy king and a girl chief, signing away the tail end of a war that has lasted a hundred years. “Chief Yue,” he says, putting the papers down in front of both of them, “Fire Lord Zuko.” He bows to both of them in turn and they bow back.

“Avatar Aang,” Yue and Zuko say in unison. Their voices sound strange together, not quite harmonious. They are both quiet people, their voices gone louder with necessity in the time since the passing of their predecessors, but neither one succeeds in drowning out the other.

“I present to you both a peace agreement. It has been looked over by the Northern Water Tribe’s council of advisors and by the sages of the Fire Nation, as well as numerous members of the White Lotus Society.” Aang’s voice hasn’t yet broken, and he sounds just a little bit squeaky trying to project his voice to the gathered onlookers. “I will give you both a moment to check for any discrepancies in the text before signing.”

Yue knows every word of this agreement and she carefully flips through the half-dozen pages, watching for any mis-phrased sentences that might rob her tribe of their reparations or allow a loophole that would let the Fire Nation continue its attempted destruction of their home. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Zuko doing the same. Some part of her knows that he, too, is looking for those loopholes not so that he can exploit a typo but so that he can correct it. 

This is what diplomacy is meant to be like, Yue thinks, this is what her history books told her about. Politics with harmony at its core. They were made for this too young, but now that they are here there’s nothing to do but make it better.

She reaches the last sentence without finding anything unagreed upon and closes the packet. “I see nothing wrong.”

“Likewise,” Zuko says calmly. His face is still as smooth, as devoid of emotion as the turtleduck ponds Yue has heard dot the Fire Palace gardens. She wonders if, when this treaty is signed, she might be able to see those gardens. She wonders what this peace treaty will actually do- she knows, of course, that it’s not the treaty that matters but the boy on the other side, upholding it, but she wonders what he could do. What they could do together. 

“Good.” Aang procures a pair of ceremonial inkwells and a pair of new brushes, bristles smooth and stiffer than the ones used to paint kohl onto Yue’s eyes earlier. “Let the treaty signing proceed.”

The brush is heavy in Yue’s hand, even though it’s just dried bamboo and ostrich horsehair. When she dips it in the stark blank ink it drips and she carefully dabs it against the edge of the well. It would be a shame to get ink stains on the new table, on the first treaty between the Fire Nation and the Northern Water Tribe in one hundred years. She signs her name carefully, then blows lightly on the ink to make it dry faster. Zuko does the same thing across from her, but his lettering is harsher. Maybe it’s just courtesy of the letters in his name- the name _Yue_ lends itself to gentle curves, the push and pull of waves drawn out in the Chief’s name. _Zuko_ is all sharp angles. Yue puts her brush down on the tiny plate provided for that and Zuko mirrors her.

“The peace treaty is signed,” Aang announces to the crowd, and a quiet cheer thrills through the group.

She offers Zuko a small smile and he gives her a genuine one back. Some part of Yue knows that the exchange of smiles is just as important as the pages in front of them. It feels like the beginning, like a rise from the ashes. 

“The Fire Lord requests your audience,” the messenger says, standing on the threshold between the house Yue is staying in and the cobbled streets outside. He wears a simple headpiece and a dark cloak, a far cry from the dehumanizing masks Yue remembers from before the war ended. She likes these better. 

“I’m-” She gestures down at the trousers and thin kimono she’s wearing. She had planned for an evening at the town’s library, not a visit with royalty. “I’m not particularly dressed for the occasion.”

“The Fire Lord will not care,” he says, “but if your Highness needs, I can wait here until you change.” Yue bristles slightly at the incorrect title- neither tribe uses _highness_ or _majesty,_ but she still takes offence at being referred to as a princess instead of the chief she is.

She considers the thick cloak and embroidered robes in her closet, the warm night air, the way Zuko’s quarters would likely be warm with firebender heat. She considers saying no, how Zuko would likely not take offence, thinks about the potential of someday seeing the palace gardens. She considers her people, how she owes them so much more than what she does every day. She can give up a single night that was meant to be for herself, just as she gives up all the others. “No,” she decides, “please, take me to him.”

“Right this way, my lady,” he says, and Yue grinds her teeth. However, she’s not the type to correct someone’s use of a title, and so she doesn’t. Zuko is staying in a house only a block away, at the top of a tall, tall staircase. The door opens silently and the messenger fades back into the street, leaving Yue standing in an empty doorway. 

The room inside is just as grand as the room Yue stayed in, carpets and cushions in emerald green and paintings with gold leaf illuminating the face of the town’s spirits. It was a town partially chosen for its retained riches and therefore its ability to honorably feed and shelter visiting royalty. 

Zuko sits draped over the arm of an uncomfortable looking couch. Yue doesn’t have anything that could be accurately described as a couch at home, but even her carved-ice throne looks more comfortable than the overstuffed green monstrosity. He straightens when he sees her in the doorway, laziness giving way to a calculated invitation. “You came!” He says, sounding like a teenaged boy who wasn’t sure if anyone would arrive at his birthday party.

“I’m not dressed up,” Yue apologizes. She surveys her choices of seating. The ottoman a few feet in front of Zuko is the most appealing, but it’s still unclear whether this meeting is casual enough for seating that isn’t the tall armchair against the south wall.

“Neither am I,” Zuko says. He gestures awkwardly at his trousers and sleeping robe. His hair is out of its topknot, falling messily over his shoulders. “I- uh, I was going to go to bed. You can sit wherever, by the way.”

Yue sits on the ottoman. It’s solid underneath her, but not uncomfortably so. The tassels brush against her crossed ankles. “Why did you invite me here, then?”

Zuko flushes and stares at the unlit fireplace. Yue wonders why he hasn’t lit it when she knows it wouldn’t take more than a flick of his wrist. “I, ah, got lonely. I usually spend my nights at the palace with Sokka or, when he’s at the tribe, my sister.” His face twists. “She’s hardly good company, but I don’t like being alone. I thought a single night would be fine, but this room is very large.”

“Oh,” Yue says. She tries to imagine what that must be like, to have the luxury of loneliness being only an oddity. “Well, I’m here.”

“Thank you,” Zuko says, meeting her eyes again. His eyes are gold-brown, shining with power that Yue can’t imagine. “I, ah-” he scrambles through a collection of jars and bottles on a side table, all full and evidently left for whatever uses he found for them. “I have, um,” he checks the label of the bottle, “rice wine, if you-”

“I don’t drink,” Yue says.

Zuko’s face melts into relief, then nervous awkwardness. He feels like a different person here than the boy she signed a treaty with just a few hours earlier, the stone facade gone and replaced by the boy she’s heard Sokka talk about. “I don’t either,” he says, “I haven’t since I was a child and stealing my father’s wine.” He sets the bottle back among its brothers, the glass clanking against all the others. “I’m not accustomed to this particular kind of opulence,” he says self consciously. “Do you think these bottles are earthbent?”

“I have heard of non benders using long straws to blow glass into bottles and glasses. Apparently it’s a common technique in the Earth Kingdom.”

“Huh.” Zuko seems to give up on his stiff posture on the couch and flops back over the arm. “I was so cold all day,” he moans, face pressed into his forearms. He looks incredibly childish like this, seventeen and lonely for his entire life, tied to his people for no reason but his bloodline and hope. Yue can’t help but relate. 

“Tell me about it. I can’t handle the heat on the best of days, but I was wearing a leather cloak over robes thicker than Sokka’s skull.” Zuko turns his head to snicker and Yue grins at him. Suddenly, the pair of children who are only the faces of their countries personified are gone, and it’s just the people behind the ceremony, tired and lonely and teasing. “I got _so_ sweaty while we were signing that treaty.”

“Gross,” Zuko says. “I had goosebumps the whole time, though. Silk is gorgeous but it doesn’t hold up against the breeze.”

“You’re lucky we couldn’t convince your sages to sign the treaty at the tribe,” Yue says, “you would’ve frozen your pretty earrings off.” 

One of Zuko’s hands comes up to finger the earrings he’s still wearing- they’re gorgeous, Yue has to admit, unnecessarily fine gold flames that shine in the sunset. “Likewise with you coming to the Fire Nation. All your makeup would’ve melted off.”

“I don’t usually wear any of it,” Yue says, gesturing at her bare face. “Most of my job up at the North Pole is practical enough that anything that would stop me from getting my hands dirty is kinda like, cast away.”

Zuko furrows his brow. “Basically all my job is ceremony. Well, that and arguing with my father’s old advisors about whether I have the power to fire them.” He smirks, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He looks human behind the mask of power he wears. Yue wonders if he’s thinking the same thing about her.

“I _know._ ” Yue shakes her head. “You’re not even a woman, you don’t know how hard it can be. The waterbending teacher in my tribe-”

“Pakku!” Zuko interrupts gleefully. Yue cocks her head. 

“You’ve heard of him?” She never knows how much information actually goes between the two countries. They have messengers, of course, but that’s only for official business, and gossip passes over the ocean spottily. 

“I’ve met him, actually, and heard countless tales of his distasteful personality from my old swordbending teacher.” Zuko leans forward, forearms braced on his elbows. “Is it true Katara beat him in an Agni Kai?” Yue barely remembers what an Agni Kai is, but she's pretty sure whatever it is is dueling-adjacent, so she nods.

“Yeah,” Yue laughs into her hand. “It was incredible. Anyway, I’ve been trying to fire him since I assumed the throne. He wants to go teach at the Southern Water Tribe, but I can’t do that to their chief.” Hakoda and Bato have both had short exchanges with Yue, politely requesting that the waterbending master sent to help reeducate the Southern Water Tribe’s bending population be Yugoda, not Pakku. Yue’s face goes sly and she leans closer to Zuko, bracing her forearms on her thighs and dangling her hands between her knees. “Speaking of Hakoda, he’s going to be a rather good father in law someday.”

Zuko collapses back against the couch and buries his face in his hands. “Augh, how did you _know,_ me and Sokka were being subtle-” he peeks out from between his fingers, lacquered dark red. “Wait, you weren’t- you weren’t talking about me and Katara, were you? Because I don’t- we’re not a thing.”

Yue wrinkles her nose. “No offence, you’re not good enough for Katara.”

“None taken. How did you know?” Zuko mirrors Yue’s pose, leaning forward so that their faces are only a foot apart. His face is shy and open. Yue wonders if he ever got the chance to just talk about crushes with someone his own age. She knows she never did. “Did Sokka tell you?”

“He didn’t have to,” Yue says, not even trying to hide the laughter in her voice, “Word gets around, and I hear gossip about the Southern Water Tribe ambassador leaving your gardens at all times of the night even up in the tribe.”

Zuko’s face goes pouty. “Only because he insists on feeding the turtle ducks at two in the morning.”

Yue wrinkles her noise in response to Zuko’s expression and he screws up his face even more, squishing his eyebrows together. They’re really nice eyebrows. She wonders if he actually tweezes them. “You two are cute together, anyway.” Yue says, “Sokka talks about you in his letters all the time.”

Zuko sighs happily. “Yeah, he’s sweet. He says he likes being an ambassador, too, because he gets to go home every month or two. I wouldn’t want to keep him from his tribe, so this is- this is good.”

“All hell is going to break loose when people find out you’re dating an ambassador, though.” Yue points out. Zuko groans.

“Can we not talk about politics? I don’t want to think about that. Maybe I should just resign and become a hermit like Jeong Jeong. Or a swordsman,” Zuko’s joking and Yue can hear it in his voice, but the fantasy hits a little too close to home.

“Could I come too?” Yue asks, “I’m no swordsman, but I can hunt and sing.”

“Obviously,” Zuko says, “you and Sokka and Suki and me in our house in the woods. No more politics, no more power.” Yue can imagine it- hunting trips with Sokka and nights around a campfire with all four of them, easy smiles and the world lifted from their shoulders. Being close, all the time, no empty rooms made of cold ice. 

Yue sighs and hangs her head. “Sounds nice.”

“I wish I didn’t care,” Zuko says softly, the tone of the conversation turning quickly from happy extrapolation to wistfulness. “I wish I could leave it all to the dogs and live and love alone.”

“Yeah,” Yue says. “But-”

“But it can all be better,” Zuko says, locking eyes with Yue. His brown eyes are golden in the firey sunset and Yue knows hers look the same. “And we can do it.” He says it with the dedication of someone who’s spent hours saying the same thing into a mirror, and Yue believes him.

“We can,” she says. “We were born to.”

Zuko laughs even though nothing funny has been said. “We were, weren’t we. This is what we were created to do.” They share a moment of companionable silence, the knowledge that the other person understands, and it feels like a new beginning. Like a light in the darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> \- this took AGES to write bc i kept stopping to look stuff up on the atla wiki (if there's a water tribe greeting, what the fire lord's ceremonial garb looks like) and then immediately disregarding it. so if anything's inaccurate it's purposeful.  
> \- i will never get over the fact that zuko became fire lord at seventeen. like he is a CHILD. aang is TWELVE. yue is dead but she'd still be eighteen or something like  
> \- also me, casually, zuko's BROWN eyes. i just. ok i like them as brown but they look gold in fire/sun like that's fun, whatever. but WHY do the water tribe kids have blue eyes. even if u say it's a bending thing like WHY would sokka and yue have them. why.  
> \- i want them to have a happy ending ok  
> \- you can find me on tumblr [@lazypigeon](https://lazypigeon.tumblr.com/)  
> \- pls comment and kudos if you enjoyed this!! thank u for reading and i hope u have a great day


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